Chapter One

"And the winner for ‘Eating with the BSB’ contest is," the announcer said. "Hurry up! Say the name!" I jumped up and down excitedly, shouting at the radio. "Relax, Krys," my friend Hazel said. "We don’t even have a chance. We never win anything." "Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry," I smiled. "It’s just that I love the BSB, you know that!" She smiled and flung part of her shoulder-length blond hair over her shoulders. "Yeah, I’ll hate that person who gets picked!" "Miss Krystal Harper and Miss Hazel Dolores!" "AHHHHHH!" we screamed. "Krystal and Hazel, you’d better pick up and dial our number in 10 minutes if you wanna dine and groove with the hottest boyband of the Millennium!" I screeched, "Hazel Dolores, pick up that phone right now!" Hazel rushed to the cordless phone and dialed the number. We could hear our phone ring on the radio. "Yes?" the announcer asked into the microphone. "I’m Hazel Dolores," she started. "And Krystal Harper! Say it!" I shrieked. "And Krystal Harper!" "Well, ladies, you’ve just won ‘Eating with the BSB’ contest!" Hazel was as red as an apple with excitement. "Yes, we know," she managed to croak. "Tomorrow, at exactly 7 pm, a limo will be sent to Krystal Harper’s house to pick you ladies up and bring you to the restaurant! Dress well! Thanks for calling, and which station was it that got you to meet the boys of your dreams?" "K-O-O-L!" We both squealed loudly. After a crazy moment of jumping and screaming, I gasped. "Do you hate us for being picked?" "Shut up! I can’t believe it! This is a chance of a lifetime! Now, there’s always the big question! What the hell are we going to wear?" she cried. "AHHHHHH! What ARE we going to wear?" I said. She looked at me in my mirror and bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Hmm, Krys, you have a really nice figure, so your tight royal blue dress should fit you fine. Put your hair down; it’s so gorgeous like that and put on a dab of makeup. Not too much, though, or else you’ll look like a Cindy Crawford wannabe." "Thanks once again, Hazel," I called back as I skipped joyfully into my room. Hazel was a real fashion freak. Everybody called her for help on clothes to parties and such. "What are you wearing?" "Umm, black mini skirt, white spaghetti strap tanktop with a see-through blouse. I’ll go check," she said as she ran to her room. We were sharing an apartment, even though we were only 18. Both of us had been Backstreet Boys fanatics ever since they were made, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. "I can’t wait for tomorrow!" I called to her, smilingly from ear to ear.